


All So Easy

by WorldCup



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Canon Rewrite, Gen, Kinda, OR IS IT, Skywalker Family Drama, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25205422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorldCup/pseuds/WorldCup
Summary: For the SW Summer Fic Exchange.Ren's redemption is bringing Han back to life.It doesn't go well, however, as another soul has to be given back to the Force in exchange, or, if powerful enough, part of one's soul.the exchange is simple, equal worth for equal worth.—There's a pain of void in Ren, he cannot pinpoint though where and what it is.Supreme Leader would know, he could—the Supreme Leaderwasdead.Hewas the new Supreme Leader.—
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: 2020 Star Wars Summer Fic Exchange





	All So Easy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zarra_Rous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarra_Rous/gifts).



> Hi everyone! I hope you're doing well in these trying times. You're probably sick of hearing it again and again, but, I mean it 💙  
> I hope this fic will make you feel better, or at least, escape reality, even if for a sec.
> 
> PS. Spacings are p chaotic because I'm still not used to how this engine works 😔
> 
> I hope you enjoy it though 💙

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren could hear in his head the blaster shot that Hux had seen before his death; for something traveling at the speed of light, it is all too slow, was Hux's last thought.

The Lord of the Sith closed his eyes for one short moment and opened them again, lightly taking in a breath. Hux was undoubtedly dead, and his death, unlike any other death Ren had sensed—only felt or also caused—had never left such effect.

The inexistence of one.

No disturbance, not even the slightest, in the Force, despite the bond created by Ren's constant searching and probing in Hux's mind. 

Kylo Ren did not feel his death as he became aware of the shot and of the life leaving the body and mind he was unfortunately bonded to. 

The Force, Luke had told him, years ago, was no merciless god. However, it was neither a merciful divine deity. The Force was barely an entity at all. But its followers were merciful, and its exploiters on the dark side were the merciless, zealous persecutors, the foul.

Obi-Wan taught that to Luke, and Luke told his sister's son.

Told him how his—Luke—father had started as a follower, and how the dark side had taken over him, and how he'd managed to redeem himself, at the very end, and only to his own son's gaze. The Sith gold going back to the blue it should have stayed.

And he, at the age of thirteen, had only heard two things: dark side and redemption. 

Ben could always stop if he wanted to, he could. He was powerful enough after all.

But Kylo Ren did not want to stop.

Nor did whatever had left of Ben Solo.

Death should not be so… whatever that was, was Hux's first thought as he opened his eyes as he should not have been able to, taking a look around and a breath as he, a deadman had no business doing. 

He was dead, he should have been. Pryde had shot him, Hux could see the blaster shot coming at him, shot far enough from him so he could comprehend the speed-of-light movement of the plasma energy bolt. 

Right to his chest, aimed at his heart.

Hux had not the time to even feel it before he'd opened his eyes to, well, to that.

.

When Luke first felt the dark swirls coming off of Ben, he could not—chose not to—have given them any mind; other apprentices needed his immediate assistance. Voe, who was one of the most hard-working kids in the group, seemed to be struggling with levitation. Voe had expressed, with no words, her difficulty with Force cloak, and Luke approached the young girl to assist her. 

And just like that, things had started going down, in the worst way imaginable, and even worse way possible.

This mistake had paved a road of other bad mistakes and even worse decisions, with the most significant one being keeping striding through its large, knife-like thorns. 

Hux wakes up in a gasp, and takes in his surroundings before thinking; rammed desert earthen floor and walls, dry air, few sand crumbles upon a light movement, and sand, so much sand. His eyes, the air, his hands, the surfaces, his clothes, the floor, his mouth, the windows, his mouth. He's in a desert world house, he recognizes quickly , having had learned the special different architectures of the different types of worlds, but he cannot pinpoint where exactly he is.

Not that it matters much at this point, Hux almost chides himself, as there are other, more important things to examine.

Most importantly, the silhouette.

In the second it takes him to acknowledge his surroundings, Hux notices a silhouette. Or, at least, a shadow of one. It's thin and slight, almost invisibly bent, Hux notices, and he feels he can only hope that the shadow is true to its caster

The shadow silhouette grows bigger as its owner steps closer. Timid steps, assured as one would be in his or her home, with some confidence, but also hesitance, or something similar. A few more steps and Hux could discern a built and a beard, and the steps slowing down even more.

Hux knows these steps; adults who had not warm ties with his father would approach him similarly. 

The man, like them back in the day, thought Hux would become afraid of them. As if he's a caged animal saved from death after being discarded by its owners.

And Hux despises it. 

“I am not this easily frightened,—” Hux's voice is embarrassingly strained with ache as he tries to get to a sitting position, only to realize the pain in his chest turns him unable to make any maneuver with 

his torso.

The man quickens his steps and reaches next to Hux in an instant, and his arms support Hux's back before falling on it in what Hux could imagine would be an even more painful event than trying to sit up.

The man is slim and timid, with brown and beige robes and his hair is a gray and white mix stricken brown, and his eyes hold wisdom that seems to reach beyond the unknown regions of the galaxy.

And they're old, so old, older than the man looks. He's seen too much, Hux could tell, as he had been there, too. The eyes of an adult reflecting a twelve years old child's 

small, paper-thin body in the mirror. 

Hux doesn't—can't—recognize the man, even though he had always been good with memorising faces, but the equipment is obsolete and the robes he wears seem old and worn-out.

“Where in hell am I?” he asks the man, and it comes slightly more demanding than he had meant it to be. He's in the man's mercy, after all, and should treat him with at least minimal respect.

“telling you might be dangerous,” the man speaks Basic, Hux acknowledges, as the man goes on: “it is a desert, though, is what I can say.” really? of everything you could say, you tell the most obvious thing? Hux must hold himself back from biting, not wanting to get on the man's wrong side.

“Could see it well by myself, thank you very much” he replies, bitterly. 

It feels like the first time on Jakku all over again. It reminds Hux of Brendol, and with the thought of his father, Hux gets dizzy and nauseous, and he can feel he's about to—the old man quickly hands him a bucket, and Hux lets it all out; it burns his throat and comes out of his nose and he feels like the sick, weakened child he had sworn to himself he will never be ever again.

“You said telling me would be dangerous” Hux says after regaining his composure and wiping his face with a too-lightly moisturized cloth the old man handed him after he finished emptying the non-existent contents of his stomach. 

The old man nods and hums an affirmation. 

“What do you mean by that—” the man seems to understand Hux's pause at the end and nods.

“— Ben my name is Ben. And what I mean is, I can sense you're not from here, not this — time. I cannot tell from when you are, though, although it's been days I've meditated trying to find some sort of an answer—”

“—days?!” Hux's composure slipped into shock. He was in this hell hole of a planet for days now?

“Please relax, mister–”

“—general.”

“An honor, if then. I've been a general during the times of the wars, I cannot tell you which, however, as it may bring … consequences.”

Tthe old man—Ben—Hux corrected himself in his mind, was right.

Hux could, theoretically ask him about the tools and machines, but if they were obsolete to that Ben as well, it won't help Hux much, if at all.

Suddenly, Hux notices the all-too-familiar tug of a presence in his head and mind. He'd grown so used to it during his service under Snoke and then Ren, that the gentle, whisper-like presence could have gone completely unnoticed by him more likely than not.

“Get out of my fucking head, you—” does the man know of the Force? Hux cannot risk it. “you freak”. he spats at that… that Ben. He has no tools to push him out, nor does he have enough time to build walls. His outburst, however, seems to be enough. No wonder the man could tell he wasn't from there—from that time. Whatever.

It dawns on him then. This could be the future, and this man, he could be — no, god, please, let it be anyone, just anyone else.

“Do you—can you recognize me?” Hux asks the man. Ren was terrible at hiding his lies, and Hux might be able to see it, and make a stop to that elaborate prank. Suddenly, this Ben being the supreme leader of the First Order seemed like the better option.

“Not at all,” Ben said, and the honesty, the sincerity, they were real. Hux may have never had the smallest understanding or grasp of the Force, but one thing he does have, and that is the ability to read people's faces, and ability he'd pride himself in, but never actually felt it was necessary. He'd preferred to hide his talents as much as possible.

With a better look into Ben's face—wrinkled and scarred with more than just age lines— Hux could see more of the man.

Ben was a tired man, who'd seen more than a simple human's capacity to comprehend or to stand. 

Objects might tell him nothing. He could ask about the old republic, he was well read enough on the dates before Yavin. But this might still cause unimaginable damage to the timeline, if he's in the past.

“The stars,” he began, trying to form the question in the most neutral way possible. 

Ben made an inquiring sound.

“How far are they?”

“Depends on which, and—” Ben stopped.

Hux nodded. “what language do we speak?” 

“We speak language of humans like us”

“And where are we?”

“Tatooine.” ah. Hux smiled, and Ben raised an inquiring greying eyebrow. Tatooine was not inhabited by humans until after the Expansionist Age. 

Given the tools, and the time period at the “Past” end of the timeline, Hux could draw it in his head.

He is after, or during, the times of the Old Republic, that's for sure. The tools – they're very old, ancient, in his standards, if they're obsolete here too… it won't help. 

“These tools, are they old?” please, of there's any power moving the universe and causing things to happen on a whim, if it exists and is sentient, please—

“Not so old! I'm not that old!” yes.

“For me, they all are.” Ben nodded.

“How old?”

“Obsolete. One may see them in some storage room no one would use, that only certified people would be allowed entry. This old.” Hux said, and Ben nodded again, more content than before.

Despite his age and understanding of the Force, Obi-Wan had absolutely no idea nor clue who the man who knocked on his Tatooine house door weakly was. 

Upon first glance, the retired Jedi could tell the man had crawled his way to Obi-Wan's doorstep with great struggle; his dark, appearingly lightweight clothes were torn in several spots, and Obi-Wan had noted the holes where insignia would be placed. 

The stranger man's skin was paler than that of a deadman's, except for the points where it turned bright red, and his hair was a few shades of copper richer than Obi-Wan's hair in his younger years. The man was thin—dainty, even—and the beholder could effortlessly notice his spine showing underneath his skin and thin clothes. His wrists were slender—too slender—making his tight black gloves appear almost ridiculously large around them. 

He was extremely malnourished, and the 56 years-old Jedi had not in his heart to leave him, even though the Force had nagged his mind, telling him it's dangerous.

Master Yoda would not be pleased in the slightest, Obi-Wan knew, but master Qui-Gon Jinn would have told him he had done well. 

And well, with all due respect to master Yoda, his last master was master Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan decided to listen to his teachings, rather than Yoda's.

He could have only hoped it wouldn't turn out to be one of his gravest mistakes.

“I was a general in the Clone Wars, and have seen how the republic had been taken by a coup from the inside, I've been close friends of one of the men who were killed by Darth Vader.” Ben tells Hux as he finally sits down next to the sandstone shelf on which Hux has been lying.

“did you—did you know him—?” Hux's voice breaks as a violent fit of coughs drier than the grounds of Crait make his whole body thrash. “Darth Vader,” Hux has to hide the shudder going through his body, thinking of the burned, half perished helmet as he clarifies his inquiry.

“Vader? Oh no. No. thank the Force for that.” this man is hiding something, Hux knows he does, and could tell even if he didn't know, as Ben's defensive tone was of one who had something to hide, not only from aliens such as Hux himself, but of one who has something to hide from himself.

Another, even drier, coughing fit catches Hux unprepared, the violent, sudden, and uncontrollable movements make him even dizzier.

Dehydration finally caught up to him and his vision went from dizzy as a result of the spasm, to empty, as if another gunshot gone through his chest, birching consciousness out of him with one hit.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was fun to write! I hope it was just as fun to read.  
> This is the first part of the story, as Silver allowed the fanfics to be multichapters, and given my summer course starting and taking all my spare, spare time, thus making it impossible for me to get to the main part of the story. I'm sorry if it didn't for your wishes, Zarra, but don't worry, I'll be working on the second part asap 💙💙


End file.
